


Nothing Can Compete With the First Time You Saw Him.

by DEVILTUMOR



Category: Dorohedoro
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-16
Updated: 2020-01-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:21:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22276279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DEVILTUMOR/pseuds/DEVILTUMOR
Summary: Stuff from my brain mush my head is too full to not have an outlet lol.
Relationships: fujita/matsumura
Comments: 6
Kudos: 47





	Nothing Can Compete With the First Time You Saw Him.

**Author's Note:**

> I know I will 100% get clowned on but this shit means so much to me u have no idea. I havent written in a rly long time & barely proofread / I tend to push things out while they're extra fresh so please bear w/ me.

All it took was the subconscious twitch behind the corners of his lips to get that head of his really working, the gears turning right on him while he made his slow advance back towards his room.

  
Fujita had been in this maze of a manor for only a few months, and he still felt like he couldn't memorize it very well. Not even where his own room was. Just getting from dinner to bed felt like hours, years even if he wanted to go the extra mile of complaining. The place was practically alive with other magic users, En's servants... every wall was breathing with life yet it felt so dark and alone. This could very easily be due to the fact that Fujita, tragically enough, was alone on his journey to become the excellent magic user he had envisioned at just his early childhood. With an impressive ability, his smoke itself was lackluster. Sure, with training, the kinks could be worked out and with proper discipline he really could extend his potential. However, even with that fact, it was hard to keep hopes high. It was easy to feel inferior compared to every one else, and especially when the elites spent so much time around this place. It was hard not to feel bitter, even envious, but he tried to keep himself together even when he felt like his whole body was falling apart from the weight of it all. Maybe, he thought, this was all for nothing. This effort would never matter in the future, he can't make a difference in himself. He's just beating a dead horse, for Christ's sake.   
  
Suddenly, those hostile thoughts came to a screeching halt. Brows furrowed and his lips formed a thin line as his hand twisted and jiggled at the knob on the door to his room. What gives? He knew for a fact he didn't lock it when he left for dinner, the keys were inside- did someone break in and lock him out...? Somehow that possibility wouldn't have surprised him. He felt ill and his jaw felt tense. On top of feeling useless, bugging somebody to rip the knob off of his door wasn't really something he was eager to do. He didn't even get the chance to pull his hand back from the smooth metal before he noticed somebody in his peripheral, and god, if he didn't jump a little. How long had he been standing there- and why!?  
  
" W-What? It's not like I'm taking up the hallway or something... " He could've cursed himself for that stupid crack in his voice. There was nothing like the feeling of lack of self worth, the emotional decay, and not being able to get into the comfort of your own home- if he could even call it that or something even close; It was all he had.   
  
It felt like minutes before this guy had even said anything.   
  
" I'm just trying to see how long it takes for you to break into my room. "   
  
His...What?   
Half-panicked dark eyes flicked right up towards the front of the door and the lack of his own name there felt like someone had grabbed the back of his head by the hair and smashed it into a cinder block. Matsumura. What the hell was the matter with him? Fujita shook his head and turned back towards him while his body moved quickly from the stranger's door.   
  
" I'm... so sorry I guess I misread or something I promise I'm not trying to do anything weird. I still really suck at navigating this place, it's like a fucking labyrinth. "   
  
Jesus, this was embarrassing. For Fujita, that is. Matsumura didn't really seem to mind given he was already unlocking his door and cracking it right open without giving Fujita any dirty looks. Some guys were really unpredictable in this place. Half of them looked like they could crush Fujita's head just by looking at him- others were just... not the most approachable looking bunch. It got old and the more Fujita saw, the more he wanted to just keep to himself. So he did.   
  
" Hey, don't worry about it! You look like you've really had it rough today anyway. I can't say I'm not boring company but I'd really like to pull that shit look you've got on your face off if you'll let me. "   
  
Surprise was an understatement.   
Never in Fujita's short little life had he ever been offered someone else's company, much less been read so quickly just like that. He should've been put off- like he usually was with strangers but this felt different. For once, it felt like he had just had the most normal interaction just now for the first time in months all because of a mindless mistake of his. Could Matsumura really be a friend? Or was that just Fujita's desperate, wishful thinking after almost ugly-crying in front of his door? He couldn't just turn this opportunity down. Sleep and TV and letting the thoughts he was in the middle of earlier fester in his head sounded great; His usual. But maybe this could be the start of something better, a break in that routine and some quality time to shed some light in this seemingly dark and impossible path Fujita had chosen for himself.   
  
Fujita let the nod of his head speak for him instead of words this time as he didn't trust his words to betray him again, or the fact the floodgates in his tearducts felt like they were going to explode just from Matsumuras brief kindness. He felt so weak.   
  
  
  
Over time, Fujitas routine of crying, sleeping, and waking up again changed just as he had hoped it would. Time spent with Matsumura was increasing more and more. Whether it be sharing each others meals or hanging out and watching TV, it was well spent time needless to say. Some nights were spent completely just by talking to each other, or in comfortable silence and that was something Fujita had never quiet reached with another person before. It was a unique relationship, and he knew that for certain. No one would be able to replace it and that was something that was written all over each and every day that had passed along with them. The funny thing is, Fujita almost never had to fully explain himself. It was like Matsumura could just read him that perfectly, or pick up on enough from Fujita's body language and the bits and pieces he did speak- it was baffling. Matsumura was genuine. He was an anchor in his life- Fujita couldn't even remember the last time he had been in such a pitiful place as he was the night they met.   
  
The level of comfort met continued to push and push into something greater, and more unique than Fujita had ever fully anticipated. What was expected to be a night of venting to a man he would never talk to again became a full fledged friendship, an unbreakable bond that Fujita was certain would last for as long as he lived, or so he thought it would. He hoped. Hell, he wasn't even sure just how closely Matsumura felt the same about it all but he didn't seem bothered. Not by the hours and hours and nights spent with one another, not with the revealing, intimate conversations that filled every hour past midnight. Not even the moments where Fujita felt so bold as to share a bed most nights along with the occasional hold-and-spoon. Fujita couldn't remember when he realized just how hard everything was clicking together, and for all he cared, it didn't matter. He was happy where he was.   
  
Matsumura had given him everything he ever needed or could have asked for. Encouragement, his confidence, company and dare he say love. Never outloud. Fujita wasn't sure he would ever be ready to vocalize something like that. He wasn't familiar enough with it, after all. Could he all it that in the first place? Would that be the thing that would take it too far, that word? It was the only thing eating his mind now and he certainly preferred it over the previously deadly thoughts that poisoned his well-being and kept him awake and just barely alive. The risk of losing everything he had gained was just something Fujita wasn't willing to take, but he would wait for that moment, he thought. Ringed fingers brushed right over the back of Matsumura's night shirt while his forehead pressed itself hard against his back.   
  
It was comical, the height difference; The way he had to scoot down just to get at this angle- but it made him feel safer somehow at least when he was feeling antsy about something. Usually it was a lot more gratifying to have his head pressed against his, not a worried thought in place... but it would be just too perfect without the occasional concerns. What if this was all just some sick joke? Did someone put Matsumura up to this? Did En orchestrate this as some kind of test? It was hard not to wonder, but it always led back to the same thing; Matsumura might as well have been his soul mate. He was genuine, good, grounded and kind and thank god for that. Fujita didn't deserve it at any amount and he knew that. He could almost call himself blessed as long as it didn't seem too dramatic to say so. Fujita never gets to fully weed out his thoughts before he drifts to sleep, but it's always pleasant anyway. For once, this place felt like home to him. A safe and enjoyable place to be. Matsumura made it all possible and Fujita couldn't wrap his brain around it. In a world like this, he couldn't have ever even dreamed to have met someone like this. God himself couldn't even make accurate enough words to describe Matsumura, or Fujita couldn't find them no matter how desperately he wanted to.   
  
It isn't like he had the guts to tell him anyway, but his thoughts were enough.   
  
  
  
  
More and more weeks had passed. No one else seemed to have noticed, but Fujita had felt stronger than he ever had. Despite his smoke intake being about the same as it had always been, his confidence grew and grew into something bigger. His self worth had been a high 90. It had only really now fully hit Fujita just what kind of impact Matsumura made on him. Nothing he would ever encounter in his life could ever even come close to comparing to when he met this man; The things he brought and gave to Fujita without asking for anything in return. He could only hope he was offering him the same exact things. He felt like he owed it to him, the same happiness and gain he had felt just from Matsumura's sheer presence. Nothing could ever could come as close, not ever in his life time and in a million more. The love, the enjoyment, the playful bickering and the mid days spent buying awful hot dogs and channel surfing mindlessly with nothing but the enjoyment for one another. For once, it wasn't that Fujita didn't trust himself not to speak when they were alone and lying with one another. It was just comfortable that way. Their lives alone were enough for each other.   
  
The routine was the same as every other day. The waking up, doing simple tasks and chores en had given to the two of them they they of course accompanied each other on. The quad-hourly meals of hotdogs that couldn't have been good for either of them, the awful 5 channel surfing and smalltalk, and finally, settling back in Matsumura's room where Fujita belonged. Since he had woken up, his chest felt tight. Matsumura had given him every reason to believe that it was time to bring up what had been lingering in his mind for as long as it had been. He had never pushed Fujita's thoughts or concerns away, so why would he now? No matter how out of character it felt, it still felt haunting to him. That feeling of failure, guilt if it could be called that, grabbed his shoulders in a vice grip- tighter than he had ever felt for something seemingly so invisible.   
  
The problem was, despite it being 'seemingly invisible', Matsumura was smart; A people reader just like he was when they had met and he caught him before Fujita could even open his mouth. Fujita should've known better by now after hundreds of hours spent yapping off to this guy, cracking himself open so wide that he almost never had a problem figuring out if something had upset Fujita or not.   
  
  
" What's wrong? Those hotdogs didn't upset your stomach or something did they? "  
  
For a second, he really felt like he was naked or something. He couldn't remember the last time he felt so scared like this even while Matsumura was cracking those shitty jokes. What was he supposed to say? It was far too late to back out or lie now. Fujita was in it deep, at least he felt that way. Swallowing that lump in his throat could've choked him and caused him to evacuate soul then and there, but he perceived.   
  
" I... " He started, sitting up with hesitation clinging to every movement on the way there while unoccupied fingers made themselves busy sifting through his own hair. " Look. " He's doing it. He couldn't believe he was doing it, right then and there. He had grown and jumped over every mental obstacle and this was the final hurdle; the last demon scratching at the back door of his mind. This was the start of -   
  
" They were great! I just feel like maybe I overestimated myself... I'm just beat. " It was hard to keep that nervous laugh behind his own teeth, much less the awkward, clumsy way he let himself flop back onto his usual place on Matsumura's bed. A confident nod from Matsumura at least told Fujita that he wasn't particularly worried- the last thing he wanted to do was worry him over some...stupid idea in his head. Fujita wasn't sure how long he would be able to keep the feelings he had built all the way up until this point a secret. It didn't feel right. It really did upset his stomach, and he regretfully wiggled into his usual spot with Matsumura now joining him in the own space that was practically made for him, right between Fujita's arms. But for the first time, there was a bit of resistance. It was dark, but Fujita's freshly adjusted eyes were able to make out Matsumura moving around at least. He didn't even have time to ask questions or sit himself up to let him situate himself any further before the warm, welcoming hands he had craved for so long to be touching him now cupped his cheek and shoulder almost too perfectly, and just as fast, the feeling of lips pressed against his own could've made his head explode. Scratchy stubble made itself at home on poor Fujita's barren skin and, god, his face felt so hot. It was all enough. This was it, everything either of them had ever needed. The only one Fujita would ever continue to love despite everything without even a glimpse of foresight. It was strange how it all happened, but Fujita couldn't even begin to think of where he could have been.   
  
He could have been dead somewhere. He could have quit his dreams and aspirations that night, continued on with his routine for the rest of his time there. He would've never found a suitable partner, much less someone he trusted and yet all it took was a mindless mishap on his own accord. Fujita found a place for himself, even if it wasn't much or consisted of getting used to that awful hot dog breath. He couldn't possibly forgive himself for not trying to break into his home sooner. Even if it all chalked up to something short lived, Matsumura would leave a mark on Fujita that would never erode away. 


End file.
